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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494978">Winter Rose of Dorne</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Queen/pseuds/The_White_Queen'>The_White_Queen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon is Ashara Sand, M/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Queen/pseuds/The_White_Queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Ned Stark finding Lyanna at the Tower of Joy after giving birth, Oberyn Martell does.  He brings the child back to Sunspear with him, claiming her as one of his bastards.  He names her Ashara, after his sister's handmaiden, Ashara Dayne.  When Ashara turned ten, Oberyn comes clean about her past, sending her to Winterfell under the guise of a ward for Dorne.  The more time Ashara spends in Winterfell, the more she falls in love with her mother's home. She also starts to develop feelings for her cousin, Robb.  </p>
<p>A couple months after her sixteenth birthday, her uncle Ned receives word that the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, died and that the king was on his way to Winterfell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arianne Martell/Daenerys Targaryen, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Myrcella Baratheon/Trystane Martell, Oberyn Martell &amp; Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Sand Snakes &amp; Jon Snow, Sansa Stark/Willas Tyrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Oberyn; Sunspear</b>
</p>
<p>“You cannot keep her,” Doran Martell, the crowned prince of Dorne, ordered his younger brother, Oberyn.  The younger prince let out a sigh, pulling the babe in his arms closer to his chest.  “Send her to the North where her remaining family is.”  </p>
<p>“Ned Stark,” Oberyn spat the words, “would never claim her as his kin.  It would be treason, and he’d never go against the Baratheon usurper.” </p>
<p>“And if he finds out that we are harboring a Targaryen, <i>we</i> will be committing treason,” Doran argued.  </p>
<p>“She has no Targaryen features,” Oberyn continued.  It was mostly true.  The infant in his arms was both a Dragon of House Targaryen, and a Wolf of House Stark.  The child was pale with a tuft of dark curls resting on top of her small head.  The only Targaryen features she seemed to have were her high cheekbones and somewhat pointed chin.  The child was beautiful, Oberyn could not deny that.  “I will claim her as one of my bastards,” he decided, clutching the child a bit tighter.  “Tyene looks extraordinarily like her mother.  Why not this one, too?”  </p>
<p>“You are risking our family’s safety over a wolf cub,” Doran snapped.  </p>
<p>Oberyn hadn’t expected to find the babe.  He traveled to the Tower of Joy, hearing a rumor that Prince Rhaegar had moved Oberyn’s sister, Elia, and her children there to protect them from Tywin Lannister’s forces. Instead, he found Lyanna Stark tiredly holding a newborn babe, blood soaking her bottom half and sheets.  He found out that Rhaegar had annulled his marriage with Elia and married Lyanna in secret.  In the she-wolf’s arms was possibly the last Targaryen to ascend the throne; Rhaegar’s younger siblings were packed up and shipped off as soon as the Mad King’s forces were falling to Baratheon’s.  </p>
<p>“<i>Her name is Rhaella Targaryen,</i>” the dying woman whispered.  “<i>Please, take her to my brother, Ned. He’ll protect her.</i>”. He almost did.  Oberyn truly thought about taking Lyanna’s corpse and the babe both to the new Lord Paramount of the North.  Instead, he decided to take the child back to Sunspear with him. His mind was fully made up when the child’s eyes opened and orbs that were a shade of purple so dark, they almost seemed black blinked up at him in wonder.  </p>
<p>“If this turns sour,” Doran threatened, standing shakily from his chair.  “It is <i>your</i> head that will roll, brother.” His dark eyes glanced down at the child, dark purple eyes glancing back curiously.  “When she’s old enough, you will tell her the truth.  And Lord Stark.  He deserves to know the last piece of his sister still lives.”  Oberyn could accept that.  “What have you decided to name her?”  Oberyn looked down at Rhaella, her dark purple eyes shining back at him, and he remembered the last time purple eyes stared at him from a beautiful face framed with dark hair - his beloved sister’s handmaiden.</p>
<p>“Ashara,” he decided.  “From this moment, she will be Ashara Sand, one of my bastards.”  The newly named Ashara blinked at him, reaching up with a pale, small hand to poke his cheek. He grinned.  Oberyn was quite sure he would not regret this decision.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hidden Truths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER ONE – HIDDEN TRUTHS</p><p>
  <b>Ashara; Sunspear</b>
</p><p>Dodging a blow from her sister’s spear, ten-year old Ashara Sand grinned, knocking the pointed end away with her own spear.  Obara frowned, moving to attack again.  They had been training for a good two hours, Nymeria and Tyene occasionally jumping in. Elia, one of their father’s youngest, ran up to them making the two sparring halt their movements.  “It’s time for lunch,” the four-year old girl said excitedly. Ashara dropped into a relaxed position, spear falling to her side. </p><p>Obara decided to use the distraction to her advantage, and smacked Ashara on the side of her thigh with the flat side of the spear blade. Ashara yelped in surprise, spinning in a half circle, dark purple eyes glaring accusingly at her eldest sister. “Cheap shot,” she hissed. </p><p>“All’s fair in a friendly spar, sister,” Obara grinned, the girl of five and ten looking immensely proud of herself. Ashara grumbled, rubbing the now sore spot on her thigh. Tyene, the sister that Ashara felt was more her twin, slid up to her side. The beautiful blonde bumped her shoulder with Ashara’s, a sweet smile gracing her features.</p><p>“Don’t let ‘Bara get to you, ‘Shara.” The other ten-year old’s deep blue eyes shined in the hot Dorne sun. </p><p>When the group of young girls made their way to the gardens where lunch was being held, Ashara noticed her father and Uncle Doran in a heated argument. Oberyn’s eyes slid towards his daughters before he pulled away from the angry lean he had towards Doran. “We will discuss this further at a later time.” Doran nodded his agreement. Doran’s three children, Arianne, Quentyn, and Trystane were already seated at the table. </p><p>Arianne was around Obara’s age. She had curly dark hair and big, dark eyes. Ashara remembered the days when Arianne was flat-chested and a bit on the heavier side. She had confided in Tyene and Ashara that she prayed to the Gods to grant her beauty.</p><p> The Gods certainly delivered. </p><p>She was one of the most beautiful maidens in Sunspear, possibly in all of Dorne. Ellaria, Oberyn’s paramour, told the two younger girls that their beauty would be nothing to scoff at as they got older. </p><p>Tyene was already beautiful with her golden hair and warm, blue eyes. She was tan, as most people in Dorne were. Ashara was the opposite. She had black hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and dark purple eyes with pale skin. She was short for her age, though Ellaria tried to give her hope that she’d grow. She was all gangly limbs. </p><p>Ellaria believed that the two would grow to be even more beautiful than Arianne when they reached maturity. </p><p>After they had finished lunch, Oberyn led Ashara into Doran’s solar. “Father?” She questioned, thinking she was in trouble. He smiled down at her, sharp, dark eyes looking softer than normal. </p><p>“My Sweetling,” he started. “There is something that we must discuss. It’s about your mother.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Ned; Winterfell</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Lord Paramount Stark,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It is with a heavy heart I write to you on this day; my brother, Prince Oberyn, has committed a great dishonor upon your house, no matter the good intentions. Ten years ago, we heard a rumor describing the false whereabouts of our dear sister, Elia, and her children, and traveled to discover not our sister, but yours, dying of childbirth fever. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna Stark married in a secret ceremony, and Lady Lyanna became with child. She gave birth in the Tower of Joy to a beautiful babe named Rhaella Targaryen. Lady Lyanna wished the child would fall to your care, but, after gazing upon the child’s purple eyes, Prince Oberyn felt she would be safer in Dorne. He took her in as one of his bastard daughters, naming her Ashara Sand. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Her tenth name day passed half a moon ago, and she has been told of her birth parents and why her true parentage must remain a secret, not only for her safety, but all of ours. We will be sending her North in three moons as a Ward for House Martell. After-all, Ashara is a Wolf as well and deserves to know the blood family she has left.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Best regards,<br/>Crowned Prince Doran of House Martell</i>
</p><p>Eddard Stark’s hands shook as he read and re-read the letter he was sent from the crowned Prince of Dorne. Lyanna was with child? He had a niece?  His mind turned and turned as he stared down at the calligraphed letters staring back at him front the parchment.  “Ned? What is it? What happened?” His wife, Catelyn, said as she entered his solar.  Instead of answering, Ned just handed the parchment over to his wife, who’s Tully blue eyes flitted over the words.  </p><p>“Lyanna <i>married</i> the prince?” She gasped. “She had a child?” She began to pace, fretting over the news.  “It most likely took a week for the letter to reach us from Dorne; we must begin to get rooms ready for Lady Ashara.”  </p><p><i>Lady Ashara</i>.  Those words struck a painful chord to the Northman.  He remembered the Dornish woman he had asked to dance all those years ago.  The woman he was practically inseparable with that whole night.  The one who got away.  He could still vividly remember those dark waves, caramel skin, violet eyes.  Normally, when he thought of Ashara Dayne, her features melted into Catelyn’s. Dark waves turning red, violet eyes turning blue, caramel skin lightening to a healthy pale.  He loved his lady wife – he could never deny that.  But Ashara Dayne was his first love, the woman he was going to marry before that thrice-damned rebellion. Ned wondered what it was about the child that made Prince Oberyn want to name her Ashara? He knew from the letter that young Ashara had the same purple eyes as Lady Ashara Dayne; could that be the sole reason? </p><p>“We will need to tell Robb and Sansa,” he sighed. “They are old enough to understand what happened, and why it needs to be kept silent.” </p><p>“If the King finds out, we will be killed for treason,” Catelyn cried, worrying her skirts to keep her hands occupied. “You want to drag our children into this?” </p><p>“They deserve to know their family,” Ned stated firmly. “Ashara is a Stark by blood. Our children deserve to know.” Speaking of blood, he is going to have to write a letter to Benjen at the Wall. He deserved to know of their niece’s existence. Catelyn nodded, but still looked worried as she left to go gather their two eldest children. He sighed, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill. </p><p>
  <i>Brother,</i>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Ashara; the North</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The North was cold. Too cold, in Ashara’s opinion. She knew she’d eventually get used to the frigid temperatures, but for now it was too cold. She pulled the fur cloak she had picked up a week before tighter over her shoulders and arched a bit lower to seek some warmth from the horse beneath her. Her father had provided her with a wagon, but she preferred the freedom of horseback. </p><p>“Lady Ashara,” a voice cut through her musings. Garin Sand, one of the men accompanying her to Winterfell, was looking at her questioningly. Not that she blamed him, of course. She’d been a bit quieter than usual after finding out that Oberyn was not her father and that her sisters were not her sisters. She had no relatives in Dorne; Ashara’s life was a lie. </p><p>Now, she was heading North to be a ward with Lyanna Stark’s family. Her <i>mother’s</i> family. She expected to feel happier after getting her mother’s name, but a part of her just felt empty and lied to. Her only sense of warmth was the way Oberyn had held her, dark eyes shinning with love as he promised her that she would always be his - he raised her, and he loved her. It didn’t matter to him who her sire was; Ashara Sand or Rhaella Targaryen was Oberyn Martell’s daughter. It brought a sense of peace to her otherwise turbulent thoughts. </p><p>“I’m fine, Garin,” she promised with a small smile. He studied her for a moment, dark eyes narrowing before he nodded, glancing away.  </p><p>“We should reach Winterfell in three days’ time,” he said.  “We will have to stop by a market to get warmer clothes.  I fear it will only get colder from here.”  Ashara groaned internally.  It would get colder than this?</p><div class="center">
  <p>||</p>
</div>The answer was yes; it could get <i>much</i> colder.  Ashara was bundled under two heavy cloaks, and her long-sleeved dress was lined with fur, and gloves so thick she could barely move her fingers.  Yet, she was still cold.  Garin did not seem to be faring much better.  Both were so used to the warm weather of Dorne.  “How can anyone survive up here?” Garin snapped out as a violet shiver overtook his body.  “We’re going to fucking freeze to death.” <p>“Garin,” Ashara admonished with a laugh as the walls of Winterfell entered their line of sight.  A group of men were walking towards them, and her men formed a tight circle around her defensively.  </p><p>The group heading towards them was led by a man with dark hair and gray eyes with a long face.  He was accompanied by a boy around her age with blue eyes and curly auburn hair.  The leader’s eyes roamed over her little group before settling on her, stone gray meeting dark purple. He must be a Stark, she mused, seeing features in him that she recognized in herself.  Ned, perhaps? “Welcome,” he started, voice deep.  </p><p>“Lord Stark,” Garin stepped forward as he bowed at the waist deeply.  “Thank you for having us, my Lord.”  Lord Stark inclined his head in greeting, and then looked back at Ashara.  “I am Garin Sand of Dorne.”  </p><p>“This is my son and heir, Robb,” Lord Stark introduced, placing a large hand on the boy’s shoulder.  Ashara stepped forward and curtsied, bowing her head.  </p><p>“I am Ashara Sand, daughter of Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne,” she recited.  </p><p>“Pleased to meet you,” the blue-eyed boy smiled.  Ashara smiled back.  </p><p>“Come; I’m sure you are tired and need to rest,” Ned said with a polite, small smile and his group led them to Winterfell.  It was beautiful, in Ashara’s opinion.  She still missed the warm sand of Dorne, but she could admit to the beauty of snow.  The lethality of it.  </p><p>While out with her father, she had seen many bones of men and women who had perished in the heat of the endless sand dunes.  She imagined that the same amount would be found of men and women who had frozen to death in their snowy burials.  A hand being placed on her shoulder broke Ashara out of her daze.  “Father!” A high-pitched voice squealed in excitement and dark violet eyes watched as a blur of dark hair and dark furs slammed into Ned’s side.  </p><p>“Hello, Arya,” Ned said warmly.  The little girl pulled back and glanced at the Dorne party.  She looked Ashara up and down and then took in her group behind her.  </p><p>“You don’t look Dornish,” the little girl accused, gray eyes glaring defiantly.  </p><p>“Arya!” a redheaded woman with the same blue eyes as Robb admonished, hurrying up the group with her skirts barely brushing against the ground in her haste.  Garin coughed to hide his chuckle, and Ashara smiled gently, kneeling down to get to Arya’s height.  She suppressed a shiver when the cold seemed through her layers of clothing into the skin of her knee.  </p><p>“My mother was a Northerner,” she explained softly.  </p><p>“Is that why you look like me?” She questioned.  Ashara lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  </p><p>“Maybe we’re distantly related.”  Not so distantly, actually, she thought.  Another little girl, this one a year or two younger than her and Robb, appeared from behind who she assumed was Lady Stark’s skirts.  She looked like Robb and Lady Stark, red hair and blue eyes.  Was Arya the only one that looked Lord Stark? That looked like her mother? </p><p>“This is Sansa, my eldest daughter,” Ned introduced, motioning a hand towards the little redhead.  Sansa curtsied lowly, bowing her head. When she straightened back up, her eyes held the same curiosity that Robb’s did; that Ned and his wife did.  Did they know?  </p><p>Did they know that she’s their cousin?</p><div class="center">
  <p>||</p>
</div>Introductions went by rather quickly after the initial ones, and Lady Catelyn, Ned’s wife, was showing her to her rooms.  “You will be placed down the hall from Sansa,” she told her, most likely expecting Ashara and Sansa to become friends.  From what she had gathered so far, Sansa was obsessed with Southern customs.  Her cousin had pestered with her questions; what was the South like? Has she ever gone to King’s Landing? Had she ever met the Prince? Was he just as handsome as the tales told? <p>Arya mostly rolled her eyes at her older sister, scrunching her little nose in distaste. Robb just looked amused at both of his sister’s antics.  Ashara had also met the other two Stark children, Bran, who was a year younger than Arya, and baby Rickon, who wasn’t even one name day yet.    </p><p>After a week, the men who came with her headed back to Dorne, leaving Ashara alone.  Well, not quite alone.  Arya stuck close to her side for the most part and loved watching her train.  She and Robb spared a few times, and even though Robb always had her in her swordplay, but Ashara always beat him in hand-to-hand combat.  </p><p>While breaking their fasts one morning, Ned received word about the Iron Born attacking ships and seaside towns. </p><p>They were starting a rebellion, and Ned would have to go back to war.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, this will probably have some slow updates, ya know, on par with my other stories - but in my defense, they aren't short chapters! Well, this prologue is, but it's whatever.  The next one will be longer, promise.  It's already halfway done. Hope everyone enjoys!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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